


A Viking's Promise

by AlexandraO



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 11th Century, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Norman Conquest, Anglo-Saxon, Drama & Romance, F/M, Historical References, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 09:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15288429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraO/pseuds/AlexandraO
Summary: In the late 11th century Thorfinn, a Scandinavian Pirate and Hermione, a Germanic inhabitant of England, also known as an Anglo-Saxon are fighting for their lives during the Norman Conquest. Despite the past and the bad blood between their people, they must work together to save their country.





	A Viking's Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [AgeOfPotter](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/AgeOfPotter) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Viking Story taking place during the 11th century around the time of the Norman Conquest. Thorfinn is a Scandinavian Pirate and Hermione a Germanic inhabitant of England, an Anglo-Saxon. Despite the past and the bad blood between their people, they must work together to save their country.

“Brother!” Hermione shouted, running toward her oldest brother Hugh.

 

“Hermione, what is it? A young lady like you shouldn’t be running through the streets, acting like a child.” Hugh said, disdain dripping from his mouth.

 

“But Hugh! I’ve just heard!” Hermione said, gasping for breath, holding her side. She had ran all the way from the fields at home after hearing the news.

 

He clucked his tongue in disapproval. Whether it was because she was covered in dirt and sweat or being she was practically shouting, Hermione didn’t know. _Probably both_. But at this exact moment, being ladylike was far from the confines of her mind. There were _far_ _more important_ matters to be concerned about.

 

Hugh Granger turned away from his sister for a moment to speak to the large man standing behind him.

 

“I apologize, Rowle,” Hugh told the man. “It will be just one moment.” The man nodded and didn’t seem bothered that they were being interrupted.

 

Hugh then grabbed Hermione by her arm and dragged her to an abandoned part of the market and trading center before letting go of her arm.

 

“What is it Hermione?” Hugh asked through gritted teeth. “It couldn’t have waited until later?”

 

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she whispered. She hated to disappoint her brother or embarrass him in front of others, but this was important. He was sure to blame her insolence on the early death of their mother. Claiming it was because she wasn’t around to teach the youngest Granger how to be a _proper_ woman.

 

“Well, out with it then,” he said, sighing.

 

“King Edward has passed and Harold, son of Godwin, the Earl of Essex has been declared King!”

 

“Will you please keep your voice down? We don’t need to frighten these villagers who don’t know yet. It could send them into a state of panic.” He paused. “Is this what has you so upset?”

 

Hermione nodded and Hugh shook his head in exasperation. “King Edward has been ill for several months. _It is no surprise_ that he has finally passed on.”

 

“ _But—_ “

 

“No, buts Hermione,” Hugh interrupted. “Everything will be just fine. _I promise_.” He brought his hand up to her chin and placed an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

 

Hermione’s fight died in her throat. She should have known that her brother would never find the time to listen to her. He always said he had her interests at heart, but she didn’t think that was true.

 

He was more concerned for himself than anything or anyone else.

 

She huffed in annoyance as he stalked off back to the great hulking Viking. He was looking at her curiously, but his attention soon turned away from her and was once more focused on Hugh.

 

Hermione supposed she should have been afraid of the man, but right now she was concerned about far greater things.

 

Hermione kicked some dirt around before wondering around the market waiting for her brother to finish his business deal.

 

She let her mind wander as she weaved in between the various vendors. She had heard rumors on the street and in the fields of her brother’s farm about the Duke of Normandy and Harald Hardrada coming to take what was supposedly rightfully theirs. Just because Harold Godwinson was going to be officially king tomorrow with his coronation didn’t mean these men couldn’t come in and take it away. How could her brother promise that everything was going to be okay? How could anybody ever promise such a thing?

 

Hermione was brought out of her thoughts by her brother shouting her name and beckoning her over. The Viking of a man had disappeared. She glanced around hoping to catch a glance of him, _out of curiosity of course_ , he was nowhere to be found.

 

“I am glad you waited for me before trotting off toward home. I don’t like you roaming the streets by yourself. Ready to go?” Hugh asked as she approached. She nodded her head and he led her out to the hitching rail where his horse was waiting.

 

He helped her up onto the saddle before jumping up and settling himself in front of her. She grabbed onto the side of the saddle as her brother made two clicking noises with his mouth and leaned forward slightly on the horse squeezing his legs commanding it to move forward.

 

As they galloped back to their home, Hermione only had one last thought, one that had been on her mind since she sprinted to the market an hour earlier — the Duke of Normandy and Harald Hardrada were going to invade England. The rumors were true and no one could convince her otherwise.

* * *

  
Months passed after Hermione confronted her brother about the rumors surrounding an invasion on English soil and as much as it pained her to say, it seemed that _maybe she was wrong_. The rumor had died and the rumor mill hadn’t turned anything out suggesting otherwise.

 

With a basket in her hand and handful of coins in her pocket, she roamed the market, looking for something… _anything_..that would keep her occupied. Her brother had finally put his foot down with her traipsing out into the field with them. He suggested staying in and spinning or weaving. She had scoffed at the suggestion.

 

She might be a lady but she despised mindless housework. Hermione wanted something that would stimulate her brain and allow her to learn new things; those activities offered her nothing of the sort.

 

Hermione continued to walk around the market, knowing she probably wouldn’t find anything of interest, but at least she was keeping out of her brother’s way. She turned a corner to walk around the village when someone grabbed her.

 

A scream would have ripped out of her throat but a mouth clamped down hard on her mouth. Thrashing from side to side, she attempted to claw her way out of her attackers clutches, but was unsuccessful.

 

“Shhhh,” the stranger whispered in her ear. “I’m not here to hurt you. I am here to help you. Now, I am going to remove my hand from around your mouth. Give me a shake of your head letting me know you won’t try to scream again.”

 

Hermione nodded and the stranger immediately removed his hand from her mouth, but hadn’t yet let go of her arm. He was behind her and she couldn’t turn her head far enough to see who it was.

 

“What do you want?” she growled, still trying to rip herself out of his grip.

 

“Just to talk,” he said quietly. “Follow me.” The man let go of her arm and quickly grabbed her hand. He pulled her across the street and into a small building. Hermione didn’t catch the name on the outside before she was yanked inside.

 

The man pushed the door shut and Hermione, trembling, leaned against the door and slid to the floor, attempting to catch her breath.

 

Finally coming to, she lifted her head. She was now looking into the deep blue eyes of a man who could easily lift her up and throw her across the room. She recognized him from months ago in the market. He had been talking to her brother when she had interrupted them.

 

Feeling a bit safer, at least recognizing him, she gave him a nervous smile and attempted to stand up. Her legs still shaky from the unexpected encounter, he held out a hand for her and helped her to her feet. Once her feet were steady on the ground once more, she gave herself time to look the man over.

 

His long blonde hair was tied in a knot at the back of neck, a woolen tunic covered his chest and a long leather apron hung just above his ankles where it met black, leather boots. Raising her eyes back to his face, she blushed knowing he had been watching her as she observed him.

 

“My name is Hermione. Hermione Granger,” she told him, breaking the silence.

 

She held her hand out to the man, who looked surprised but shook it regardless and replied, “I know who you are. I remember seeing you in the market a few months back. You’re Hugh’s little sister.”

 

Hermione nodded and he continued. “The name’s Rowle. Thorfinn Rowle.”

 

Then silence. Neither said anything. Hermione refused to speak first. She was the one who was dragged here against her will. He obviously had a reason… _she hoped_.

 

Still, he didn’t talk. They only stared at each other almost if they were sizing each other up.

 

Finally, Hermione blurted out, “You’re a Viking aren’t you?” Her curiosity getting the best of her. He looked every bit like a Viking, but was nothing like the stories her father had told her as a child.

 

Thorfinn raised his eyebrows at her and shook his head, almost as if in exasperation. “I am, but that scares most people. I usually don’t admit it outright.”

 

“I’m not most people,” Hermione replied. “Are you ashamed of being a Viking?”

 

“No,” Thorfinn said quickly, narrowing his eyes at her. “I despise that many folks around here associate me with the Vikings from their stories…the Vikings that raided their land and killed their families. My ancestors did that several hundred years ago. Now is a different time.”

 

Hermione frowned. He was right. Most people had been conditioned to be afraid of the man in front of her.

 

Thorfinn continued. “You know your people invaded and settled in this land too? Yet that is overlooked and the Vikings are considered barbarians for doing so.”

 

Hermione opened her mouth, but closed it again at a loss for words. He was right.. _again_. She decided to drop the conversation of their ancestors in case it turned ugly and instead directed it back to why she was kidnapped and dragged into his shop.

 

“Why am I here?”

 

“You’ve heard the rumors haven’t you?” He said, gesturing her over to the stack of hay in the corner. He took a seat on it and she joined him.

 

“Of course. But they died out as quickly as they came. After a while, I thought maybe what I was hearing was exactly that…a rumor.

 

“I heard you that day you know, _with your brother_. I was listening as he brushed you off and didn’t take your concerns seriously,” Thorfinn admitted.

 

Hermione just raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t even mad that he had been eavesdropping. But was that why he wanted to talk to her now?

 

“And?” she asked.

 

“I don’t think your concerns should have been brushed off so easily.” He paused. “It’s Tostig Godwison. He is obviously estranged from his brother, the king. Otherwise he wouldn’t attempt something as disastrous as this.”

 

“What do you mean? As what?”

 

“I mean, I don’t think he is acting alone. But if he is; he is more idiotic than I originally thought,” Thorfinn said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is just not what our country needs right now.”

 

“I know. If Tostig Godwinson is working alone, then there are still two major problems headed our way assuming they aren’t rumors as well. The Duke of Normandy and Harald Hardrada won’t be far behind.”

 

Thorfinn looked at the girl…no, woman, sitting next to him. Why is it he felt like he could spill his guts to her and not have to worry about her telling his secrets to her brother? Why was he talking to her, convincing himself that he wanted to fight for the country they both loved? She was rather easy to talk to and much more pleasant than her brother.

 

She interrupted his train of thought. “So, why did you bring me here? What do you want? All of this is just something that is potentially going to happen. It —”

 

“Tostig Godwinson just attacked and raided Norfolk and Lincolnshire —“

 

Hermione gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. “Where do you hear that?”

 

“In York. I was making some deliveries of swords and the soldiers stationed there had just gotten word. I am surprised it hasn’t reached our village yet.”

 

“You don’t think Tostig will eventually come for York, do you?”

 

“I think that is exactly where they are headed, eventually,” Thorfinn said, shaking his head.

 

“But why? People in York despise Tostig Godwinson. We despise Tostig Godwinson. He imposed heavy and unjust taxation and abandoned us for long periods of time in favor of the King’s Court…”

 

Thorfinn wanted to chuckle at her ranting and raving, but refrained from doing so as not to insult her. If he wanted to spend some more time with her, insulting her would see that her interest in him would end real quick. When he turned back to her, she was still going.

 

“…He was appointed to the Northumbrian earldom and has been much more than heavy handed with his people. We did nothing to him; why would he do this?” She jumped up from her place in the hay and started pacing the shop.

 

“Hermione, we outlawed and had him replaced less than a year ago. He can’t be happy about that,” Thorfinn said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to the hay. He couldn’t stand the pacing.

 

“What are we going to do?” Hermione groaned, placing her elbows on her thighs and throwing her head into her hands.

 

“We can’t —“

 

She looked at him and interrupted before he could even finish his sentence. “What do you mean we can’t? There is an attack going to happen on our city and you want to sit and what? Watch them walk by? Let them wreck havoc and leave us broken and in shambles?”

 

Thorfinn groaned in frustration. “Are you done now?” She opened her mouth to keep talking and he put up his hand. “Let me finish.” She closed her mouth and nodded.

 

“Before you got your knickers in a twist, I was going to say we can’t just barge into battle. I am quite honestly at a loss at what to do because we are just civilians. I am just a blacksmith who produces steel for armies like the ones who are going to attack and you, just the daughter of a farmer. This is going to be almost impossible,” he said, shaking his head. He must be mad to even entertain the idea of rising up against invaders instead of letting the militia take care of it.

 

Hermione scooted closer to him on the hay and grabbed his hand. “That is why you came for me, isn’t it? We are the only ones who seem to care.”

 

Thorfinn just nodded his head. “I never wanted to be apart of the militia, but I can’t just stand by and let my country deteriorate and fall to the likes of outsiders.”

 

“Let’s do it,” Hermione whispered.

 

She looked up into the big blue eyes of the Viking and saw hope, maybe admiration? “What do you expect to come of this?” she asked quietly after several moments of silence. “We aren’t soldiers and we have no influence in the King’s court.”

 

Thorfinn shrugged. “I am not sure. Just promise me one thing.”

 

“Anything. Anything you want,” Hermione said, eagerly, wanting to get to work right away.

 

“Careful, that could be a dangerous thing to say in unpleasant company,” Thorfinn warned, untangling their hands and pushing up off the hay.

 

“We both know you are far from unpleasant company, Thorfinn. Though need I remind you that you kidnapped me from the market?” she teased. “But really, you just put on this facade of a terrifying Viking so people will leave you alone. I have only known you for maybe an hour and I already see right through you. You’re just a gentle giant.”

 

Thorfinn smiled and changed the subject back to the issue at hand once more. “I asked you to help me with hopes that maybe you had thought about what to do. Do you have any sort of a plan?”

 

Hermione frowned, her eyebrows furrowed as if thinking deep and hard. She finally spoke. “I haven’t entirely thought this all the way through.” He had thought as much. Neither had he; just a little blip of an idea in his head. She walked the length of his shop, touching the steel on the walls, finally stopped at his workstation, a half finished sword sitting there. She turned to him quickly, a smile gracing her features.

 

“You make swords,” she said. It hadn’t been a question, but a statement.

 

“Yes?” he asked questioningly.

 

“Do you test them yourself before you sell or trade them?”

 

He nodded and responded, “I do, but are you going to tell me what you’re on about, woman?”

 

Hermione laughed. “I want you to teach me how to fight.”

 

“Teach you to fight? That’s your brilliant plan?” He asked, before turning away and letting a mouthful of colorful curse words fall from his mouth that were definitely not appropriate in the company of a lady.

 

“Such a mouth you have,” Hermione said, smirking. “Typical Viking.” He turned back toward her and he saw that she was smiling. She had been teasing him.

 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Thorfinn admitted, shaking his head. “I’m too young to die.”

 

“Well, we will have to make the most of what time we have left,” Hermione said, still smiling. Thorfinn just shook his head and looked toward the ceiling, trying to hide that huge grin he was sporting. This flirting was going to drive him crazy if it continued.

 

“We seem to keep getting off track,” she said, blushing. “But you’ll teach me?” She waited with baited breath for him to confirm.

 

“I will, but you will not tell anyone what you are up to. I mean it. Tell no one.” He might have been serious but he couldn’t stop grinning especially as he watched Hermione almost burst with excitement.

 

“Oh, thank you Thorfinn, thank you!” Hermione gushed, as she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his middle. She barely reached his shoulders and her head was nestled into his chest. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, knowing this was extremely inappropriate behavior for two unmarried individuals who had no intentions of becoming betrothed.

 

Moments later, Hermione pulled away and smiled up at him, blushing. “So what’s the plan?”

 

“Meet back here tonight after the sun sets. Make sure you —“

 

Hermione interrupted. “Tell no one…yes, I understand.”

 

“And make sure you are not seen. Being seen meeting me after dark would destroy your reputation. I don’t want to be responsible for that,” Thorfinn admitted.

 

“If I am seen leaving here now, my reputation will already be put into question. If you know me at all, it's hardly something I am concerned with.”

 

Thorfinn nodded. “Go. I will see you tonight.”

 

Hermione waved goodbye and rushed out the door. Thorfinn collapsed back onto the hay and closed his eyes.

 

_What had he just gotten himself into?_

 

* * *

Summer passed by quickly, Hermione and Thorfinn spending more and more time together. Days were spent with Thorfinn continuing his trade and Hermione traipsing around the village, trying to keep up on gossip. On days he stayed in the shop, she was right there with him, usually in a corner reading up on some fighting techniques. In the evenings, they rode out on Thorfinn’s horse, Arion, to the middle of nowhere where Thorfinn taught her to fight. This night was no different.

 

Hermione hung on tight to Thorfinn as Arion galloped through fields of untouched meadow grass, the tops of the weeds skimming her ankles. She looked up toward the sky and smiled; the moon was shining bright and the clouds had finally dissipated to give way to the stars.

 

She loved being outdoors and that was one thing she loved about Thorfinn — his personality was so different from other men including her brother. He didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t inside churning butter or sewing.

 

Perhaps it was a Viking thing and she endeavored to ask him about it one day; maybe Viking women were strong, fierce beings so Hermione’s behavior wasn’t anything to be concerned about.

 

As they reached their usual spot, in a meadow where the grass was trimmed, Hermione slid off the back of the horse and immediately laid down on her back and looked up at the sky. It was rare that she found time just to enjoy the beauty of nature, especially at night. Thorfinn didn’t ask what she was doing, but instead laid right down next to her.

 

Hermione looked over at him and instead of looking at the stars, he was looking at her. She smiled. “What is it?”

 

He shook his head. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her.

 

Hermione blushed. “Thank you,” she whispered, not daring to look away. Even in the darkness, his blue eyes shined. How she would never tire of them.

 

He moved his hand toward her and pulled her closer, placing her hand in his. They lay there silently for a while before Hermione spoke.

 

“Do you think this will help? I mean, do you think all of this practice with sword fighting will be worth it?”

 

“Are you doubting yourself?” Thorfinn asked, frowning.

 

“It’s just, I don’t know.” Hermione sighed. She hoped what they were doing would help when they figured out a course of action.

 

“Do we have to practice tonight?”

 

He laughed. “We don’t have to do anything. But I know one thing I would like to do.” Thorfinn then pulled her close and placed the softest of kisses on her lips, barely brushing her lips. He tried to pulled away, but with her arms now looped around his neck, she pulled him back down, once more reconnecting their lips.

 

Thorfinn pulled her on top of him, looping a hand through her hair, the other lightly skimming her back. After several moments, Hermione broke away for some air and smiled down at the Viking beneath her.

 

“I like this kind of practice,” Hermione breathed.

 

Thorfinn laughed. “So do I,” he said, once more latching his lips to hers.

 

* * *

_1066 September 20_

 

Hermione ran out to her horse, Tornac, and quickly untied him from the hitching post before throwing herself onto his back and galloping off toward Thorfinn’s shop as quickly as possible. Black smoke was billowing in the distance several miles out and villagers from the nearby village of Fulford were running down the street.

 

It wouldn’t be long before their own little town would be overrun with strangers and potentially, soldiers. She kept low on her horse and skidded to a stop outside the blacksmith shop, quickly tying him up.

 

She ran inside and Thorfinn was already packing up everything they would have use for.

 

“What is happening in Fulford?” she asked, with a feeling she already knew the answer.

 

“You remember Morcar? The Earl of Northumbria that was elected after Tostig Godwinson was ejected?”

 

Hermione nodded her head and motioned for Thorfinn to continue. She was impatient, especially when they were potentially in immediate danger. He motioned her to follow him outside and she was surprised to see that he was filling up a wagon with supplies and some of his belongings. She shook her head; she’d ask later.

 

“What about him?” Hermione asked, prodding Thorfinn to continue to conversation.

 

“Well Tostig and Harald Hardrada, who is at the head of a huge Norwegian army I might add, just defeated Morcar and his older brother Edwin in battle.”

 

“Wait, Norwegian? If we fight, it will be against a Viking army.” Hermione paused. “Are you going to be okay with that?”

 

“I never would have pulled you aside that day if I wasn’t, darling.” Thorfinn said, walking toward her. He lifted her into his arms and placed a kiss on her lips. As he set her back on the ground he said, “I might be a Viking, but I was born and bred in England. I know nothing different. I won’t turn my back on them now.”

 

Hermione could have done much more than kiss her great hulking Viking of a man right then and there, but she restrained herself and for good reason. A war was on it’s way toward York and they needed to be ready when it arrived. Instead, she followed him and helped him as he packed almost his entire shop up.

 

Then a man she didn’t recognise arrived and Thorfinn handed him a bag of gold. “What is that for?” Hermione asked curiously when the man disappeared to check that the wagon was tethered to the horse correctly.

 

“He is taking those belongings to a ship that is waiting for us on the coast,” Thorfinn admitted.

 

“Thorfinn, what? What do you mean waiting for us on the coast? I thought were were going to stand and fight?”

 

Thorfinn just shook his head. “We will do what we can. But we needed a backup plan. The Norwegians just secured a first and very important victory. If they continue on this rampage, we will have no other choice. We will have to leave.”

 

“But what—”

 

“Hermione listen to me,” Thorfinn said, his voice low, his hands gripping her shoulders uncharacteristically tight. “I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you. I had to put an extra precaution in place to keep you safe. I promised your brother.”

 

“You what?” Hermione exclaimed. “When have you been speaking to my brother? And what happened to keeping us quiet?”

 

“I asked to marry you,” Thorfinn said quietly, turning away from her.. “Your brother wasn’t very likely to give me his blessing if he thought I was a stranger now, would he?”

 

“You don’t know my brother very well then,” Hermione mumbled.

 

Thorfinn laughed. “Did you not hear anything past when I said I talked to your brother. God, woman! I said I wanted to marry you!”

 

Hermione grinned. “I heard you, you Viking!”

 

“If you’re trying to insult me, you’re doing a poor job of it,” Thorfinn said, pulling Hermione into his arms once more, peppering her face with kisses. “So what do you say? Think you want to marry me?”

 

“Think?” Hermione exclaimed. “I know!” Thorfinn looked at her in confusion before Hermione rolled her eyes and explained. “That means yes, darling. Yes, I will marry you.”

 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, they spend several moments wrapped around each other celebrating their engagement; their worries for the outside world temporarily forgotten.

 

Only when a cough sounded behind them did Thorfinn let go of Hermione’s arse and lower her to the floor. “Sorry, Artie,” Thorfinn told the man. “Just celebrating an engagement. A man can understand right?”

 

The man called Artie just laughed and nodded his head. “All ready to go then?” Thorfinn asked.

 

The man nodded once more. “Everything seems to be in working order. Anything else that needs loading up into the cart?”

 

“That will be it Artie. We will meet you at the coast in three weeks time if we think hope is lost. If we aren’t there by dawn on the third week day, leave without us. Once you reach Dunwich, send word just in case…” Thorfinn trailed off and coughed. “Just in case we are still alive.”

 

Artie nodded once more and left the blacksmith shop. Hermione rushed to the window and watched him climb behind the horse and grab the reins. Moments later, Artie pulled away from the Blacksmith shop, not looking back.

 

Hermione sighed, watching all of Thorfinn’s belongings being pulled away was a sad moment indeed. Him and his father before him and his father before him had built this shop and perfected their craft. They had served many years providing York and the surrounding villages with household items and of course, swords. It made her sad to see all of that hard work be carted off.

 

Hermione turned back to Thorfinn and smiled, but with tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

 

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “For what?”

 

“For promising to keep me safe,” she choked out. “I wasn’t really angry before. I don’t know what came over me.”

 

“Nothing to apologize for my darling. I will always keep you safe.”

* * *

 

 

_1066 September 25_

 

Five days later and the situation hadn’t improved. Thorfinn and Hermione had fled their town quickly stopping only to speak with her brother. It hadn’t been a pleasant conversation. She begged Hugh and his very pregnant wife to flee to the coast where Thorfinn’s things were headed and they would hopefully join them in a few weeks time.

 

Hugh had only seceded from the argument and agreed to flee when Hermione’s sister-in-law, Hugh’s wife brought his hand to her swollen stomach. He banged his fist on the table and immediately began shouting orders to the hands. Within a few hours, she watched once again as another wagon departed the small village in hopes of catching a ship.

 

“What shall we do now?” Hermione asked.

 

“We need to sneak to Stamford Bridge,” Thorfinn said, walking toward their single horse, Arion, Hermione’s horse being with her brother. Arion was all that was left besides a small satchel that Hermione carried with a few precious belongings and the clothes on their back.

 

“What is happening at Stamford Bridge?” Hermione asked, as Thorfinn threw her up into the saddle before settling comfortably behind her.

 

“A battle,” he said, simply.

 

Hermione nodded her head and off they went; avoiding the main roads in case they happened upon soldiers or an army wishing to do them harm. It wasn’t long before they could see the smoke rising from the fires in the English encampment.

 

They slid off their horse and settled down into the brush, on the edge of the River Derwent.  The army seemed content where they were at for the time being, but according to Thorfinn the army soon would soon split into two. Hermione knew they had to fight but her heart was pounding fast at the idea of actually engaging in combat.

 

“How can we help?” Hermione whispered. “What will two extra bodies do?”

 

“Two extra bodies could mean the difference between victory and defeat,” Thorfinn told her before sliding down the hill and into the river to fetch water. As he was climbing back up, Hermione asked him another question.

 

“We should have more of a plan. I have been thinking; what if we avoid the main battle and instead go for the heart of the Norwegian army?”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“Okay, here is what I’m thinking.” Hermione laid out her plan for her fiance and waited in silence as he took it all in.

 

Finally, he spoke. “I think that is a brilliant plan,” he told her, grabbing her head and pulling her in for a kiss. “I knew I was marrying you for some reason. Your smarts.”

 

“That’s all?” Hermione pouted.

 

“Well that. And beauty. And your loyalty. Need I go on? We would be here for days,” Thorfinn said laughing.

 

Hermione just shook her head and smiled. How did she get so lucky? And with a man who she had only seen in passing less than a year ago. Things sure did move quickly, but who was she to complain.

 

When midday hit, Thorfinn pulled Hermione in for a quick snogging session before setting off on his hopefully safe journey. She waved goodbye and then hid herself further into the brush, knowing her being caught by the opposition would put a huge wrench in their plans.

 

Thorfinn rode off, not daring to look back at Hermione. If he did; he wasn’t sure he could ride into enemy territory knowing he might not ever see her again. He continued along the main roadway until he rode up upon the Norwegian army, more specifically Harald Hardrada and Tostig Godwinson.

 

Tostig held up his hand to prevent the soldiers behind him from lurching forward and attacking him.

 

“Godwinson, a private word?” Thorfinn told the man, not giving his name. Godwinson nodded and Thorfinn had to keep a sigh of relief from spilling out. If he would have said no, their plan would have failed.

 

Thorfinn climbed down off the horse and walked over to a small opening underneath the trees, far from prying ears of the soldiers, but close enough that Hardrada could hear what was being said.

 

“What is your name?” Tostig asked.

 

Thorfinn shook his head. “Not important. I come here with an important message.” Tostig nodded and Thorfinn continued. “Your earldom will be returned to you if you turn against Harald Hardrada.”

 

Tostig Godwinson just shook his head in disbelief. “You are a Viking are you not? Why are you offering me this when I now stand beside your own people?”

 

“My ancestors might be Vikings, but I fight for England.” Thorfinn paused before continuing. “So what say you?”

 

“If I turn on Hardrada and I am saying IF. What will my brother, Harold, be willing to give Hardrada for his trouble?”

 

“Seven feet of English ground, or as much more as you need, as you are taller than most men.”

 

Tostig shook his head once more. “If my brother thinks his attempt at humor will turn me away from my allies, he is sorely mistaken. He has thrown me out once before, who says he won’t do it again.”

 

Tostig then walked away from Thorfinn before turning back. “Tell my brother that I refuse.” He then walked away and didn’t look back; the conversation was over. Thorfinn climbed upon his horse, his heart heavy knowing their plan had failed. They would have to continue on with the original plan which made his heart ache even more. Having Hermione in battle beside him was going to be terrifying even though he had complete confidence in her sword fighting ability. They had spent months practicing and he knew she was prepared for what was to come.

 

As he mounted his horse he heard Harald Hardrada say, “I am impressed by the man. It shows great courage to ride up onto an army of thousands. Who is he?”

 

Thorfinn didn’t stick around for the rest of the conversation. Quickly, he rode back to their hiding place and Hermione risked being seen to come out and greet him. “Oh, you’re safe. Thank God!” He kissed her and then pulled away, her brown eyes shining with tears.

 

“What is it?” He asked, frowning.

 

“I was just so worried. I could hear the soldiers in the English army bustling around, almost as if they were heading off to battle.”

 

“Not to worry, my dear. I have returned. But I come bearing bad news. Tostig Godwinson did not fall for our plan. He outright refused.”

 

Hermione wiped off her face and took a deep breath. “Well that was to be expected,” she said, straightening up, brushing off her skirt. “We will have to continue on with the original plan.”

 

“Are you sure that you are up for this? We can leave now and let this pan out on its own. We don’t have to be here,” Thorfinn told her.

 

“I know. I want to be here. I am ready to fight. If I have it my way, I’ll be the one who puts my blade through Tostig Godwinson himself.”

 

“And if you put your blade through Tostig Godwinson, I’ll be right by your side putting my own through Harald Hardrada.”

 

“Promise?” Hermione asked, smiling.

 

“I promise.”

 

What seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, the English army started moving east of the River Derwent and southeast of the Battle Flats area. Thorfinn and Hermione followed the English army, but kept out of sight.

 

Moments later, Hermione and Thorfinn stopped at a ledge and peaked over. They saw the Norwegian army and the English were slowly advancing. Oh what she wouldn’t give to see the look of shock on Tostig Godwinson’s face when the English arrived, especially right after he declined Thorfinn’s offer.

 

It wouldn’t be long. She watched as the English army crossed over the hill and caught the Norwegians by surprise. Hermione couldn’t help the grin that crossed her features.

 

The Norwegian army’s response surprised her; though she knew little about militia formations. They deployed rapidly in a defensive circle. It proved fatal. Hermione watched as the English soldiers swarmed and the Vikings that were on the west side of the River Derwent were either slain or fleeing across the bridge.

 

The English were delayed by the need to pass over the bridge itself and several were slain as giant Norse axeman appeared, roughly the size of Thorfinn, blocked the narrow crossing. Hermione had to cover her mouth as not to let out any sound; though she doubted she would be heard.

 

The clanging of swords and the screams of the wounded were enough to drown out the sound of a small gasp.

 

The giant Norse axeman seemed to hold up the entire English army for several minutes and cut down at least forty Englishmen, if not more. Finally, an English soldier dashed for the water underneath the bridge and ran through the water with difficulty.

 

When he reached the bridge, she heard a loud roar from the large man on the bridge as the Englishman thrust his spear through the planks in the bridge. He fell sideways off the bridge and floated down the river, seemingly dead.

 

Unfortunately, Hermione noticed, the delay of the English army by the Norse axeman allowed the Norwegian army to form shieldwall to protect themselves. Harold’s army, now crossing the bridge, formed a line right in front of the shieldwall, locked their shields together and charged.

 

“Hermione, time to go...now!” Thorfinn shouted. Hermione quickly scrambled to her feet and ran after her man. They needed to get to Harald Hardrada and Tostig Godwinson before the English soldiers.

 

Most likely they were not in the center of the battle, preferring to stay on the sidelines rather than risk their own necks. Hermione and Thorfinn no longer bothered to stay hidden in the brush and full out ran into the middle of the battle; although avoiding the actual combat.

 

As they ran, Hermione could smell blood and sweat permeating the air. Beneath their feet, pools of blood mingled with the Earth, creating sticky clay which stuck to their boots. Looking to her right, she watched as an English soldier was stabbed from behind.

 

Hermione’s heart began to race at the sight. It was as if the world around her stood still as she watched his eyes widen with shock. He made eye contact with her as she witnessed the light slowly seep from their depths.

 

In that moment, Hermione realized despite her hours of practice with a sword, putting it through a body was an entirely different thing; she’d never be able to do it.

 

Hermione kept her hand on her hip where her sword was now located, Thorfinn doing the same. Off in the distance, the couple could see two haughty looking men sitting on their horses.

 

“That’s them,” Thorfinn growled. Hermione nodded not trusting her voice to speak. She was sure she was going to empty the contents of her stomach any moment.  She recognized Tostig Godwinson from when he had visited their village when he was Earl of Northumbria.

 

He looked the same as he did then — _a pompous arse_.

 

“Let’s move behind them and attack. They’ll never expect it.” Thorfinn told her. He made to move, but Hermione stood rooted to the spot.  

 

“Thorfinn wait—” Hermione shouted, grabbing his arm before he could run off. Before she could say anything, an arrow shot through the air piercing Harald Hardrada’s windpipe. He fell off his horse and Hermione knew he was dead.

  


They then watched as several English soldiers broke through the rest of the battle and headed toward Tostig intent on him meeting the same fate. It was almost in slow motion as the soldiers cut down his horse and crossed swords.

 

It seemed like lasted forever, Tostig putting up a good fight but moments later, he was lying still on the ground; dead.

 

At first Hermione was in shock and almost upset at once again being thwarted and not being able to complete their plan, but then she was overcome with relief. She didn’t know if she would have been able to throw her sword through a human being without becoming hysterical. Looking at Thorfinn, he seemed a bit relieved as well. If not for himself, then for her.

 

“What shall we do now? The battle isn’t over yet. I know I can’t kill someone Thorfinn.” Hermione said, shaking her head.

 

“Let’s go back to our hideout in the brush. We can make a little camp there and scavenge for food and information. If it’s safe to go back home, then we will go. No matter what, I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

 

Hermione just gave him a smile. He didn’t need to tell her because she already knew; it was nice to hear nevertheless.

  


A few short days later, Hermione and Thorfinn were holed up in Hermione’s old home. It was now empty of most belongings since her brother was gone, only large furniture remained. They had just come back from a quick visit to the market which was virtually empty. They scavenged what they could, traded for substantial food such as bread and hunted small animals.

 

“Did you happen to catch what those men in the market were whispering about?” Hermione asked as they began to cook dinner.

 

Thorfinn sighed. “I did. They were talking mostly about the battle that happened at Stamford Bridge.” He stopped talking and Hermione turned around.

 

“What is it, Thorfinn?” She didn’t need to prompt him further. He spilled everything he had heard the men gossiping about.

 

“None of it is good, Hermione. We might be better off leaving for the coast now and getting out of this bloody country.”

 

She walked around behind Thorfinn and wrapped her arms around his neck and laying her head against his. “Tell me what they said. Then we can worry about what to do next,” she whispered.

 

“After we left the battle at Stamford Bridge a few days ago, The Norwegians received reinforcements by troops who had been guarding the ships at Riccall. It was a potential son-in-law of Hardrada, Eystein Orre, leading the troops.”

 

“Okay, and what happened?”

 

“I didn’t hear the entire story as I was trying to be inconspicuous. But I heard that his men were so tired, that they were said to have collapsed and died of exhaustion upon reaching the battlefield. I don’t know how the rest of the battle went down but the English army were  victorious and Orre was killed.”

 

“But that’s good news isn’t it?” Hermione said, frowning. “We won a battle. Maybe we won’t have to flee after all.”

 

Thorfinn shook his head. “Don’t get too excited, darling. That wasn’t all I heard.” He looked down at his hands, almost fidgeting.

 

Hermione moved from behind him and sat in the chair next to him, reaching for his hand. She squeezed in hopes of comforting him. “What is it?”

 

“Well the English troops are weak after the battle. If someone were to attack now, there is no way they would survive. Too many are in a weakened state.”

 

“Well now that Hardrada and Tostig are dead, who is going to attack?” Hermione asked.

 

Thorfinn looked up from his hands and looked straight into Hermione’s eyes. He looked so serious, Hermione was almost scared. “William the Conqueror. He landed in Southern England the day after the Battle of Stamford Bridge.”

 

Hermione felt her eyes go wide and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “And Harold’s army? The English troops? What are they doing?”

 

“They’re marching south.”

 

“Oh no,” Hermione whispered. “King Harold removed all the troops from Hastings for the Stamford Bridge battle. So William the Conqueror arrived there unopposed.”

 

Thorfinn nodded. “I would like to travel that way toward Hastings—not to fight,” he added quickly, seeing Hermione’s face. “But just to get some more information. If it doesn’t look good, we will divert and meet Artie at Dunwich. We will sail out of the country from there.”

 

Hermione nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “But if it looks as though England is going to lose, we have to leave.”

 

Thorfinn agreed. Hermione rose from her seat again and they didn’t speak again until after dinner and they lay on Hermione’s bed.

 

“How scandalous to be laying on a bed with a man before marriage,” Hermione said, giggling.

 

“Maybe it’s okay since I plan to make you my wife,” Thorfinn replied, pulling her close and placing a kiss on her lips. Hermione responded enthusiastically, entwining their tongues together, throwing a leg of his middle and grinding herself on him.

 

He pulled away and groaned. “I was teasing. We can’t do this Hermione.”

 

She frowned and gave him the pouty look. “Don’t give me that look, darling,” Thorfinn said, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. “I want you to be my wife before we go any further. Call me old-fashioned.”

 

“I just want you so much,” Hermione whispered, placing her forehead on his.

 

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual. I just want to do this the right away,” Thorfinn admitted.

 

Hermione looked at him with tears in her eyes, but not because she was upset, because she realized this really was the man for her.

 

“I love you,” she whispered, closing her eyes, just feeling the beating of his heart against hers. She opened her eyes and he was smiling at her.

 

“I didn’t want to scare you by saying it too soon. I love you too, Hermione Granger.”

 

“I know.”

  


The next day, Thorfinn and Hermione jumped on the back of Arion and started the long journey south. Two days later, they came upon the city of Cambridge. They had enough money and found lodgings above a tavern for at least one night, more if needed.

 

They ate inside the establishment, hoping to catch some information from the men around them. Thorfinn struck up a conversation with another gentleman while Hermione kept her eyes averted and kept as quiet as possible, though her ears open.

 

“Anything interesting happening in this part of England?” Thorfinn asked casually to the gentlemen sitting next to their table, keeping his voice quite low. “We just heard there was a battle near Yorkshire and was wondering if there were others sprouting up around the country.”

 

“Nothing yet,” the man said, almost at a whisper. “Though I did hear a Duke from Norway has landed on the coast in Hastings. It won’t be long.”

 

Thorfinn just nodded his head. Though it was information they already knew, it was nice to hear it from someone else.

 

Hermione and Thorfinn decided to stay in Cambridge until they heard further news of the impending battle against the Norwegians. On the morning of the thirteenth of October, Hermione woke up and sat straight up, her heart beating faster than ever. Thorfinn opened one of his eyes and squinted at her.

 

“What is it, Hermione?” He mumbled, his voice still raspy from sleep.

 

“Nothing,” she said as she laid back down and placed her hand on her chest. “I just had an odd dream. I have a feeling whatever is going to happen with William and Harold is going to happen soon. I just know it.”

 

“Rather sooner than later, I say,” Thorfinn replied. Hermione nodded in response and closed her eyes once more. Thorfinn draped his arm over her body and pulled her close.

 

The sun wasn’t up yet and as Hermione’s breathing evened out, she slowly drifted back to sleep. Later, the couple woke up and trudged down to breakfast after dressing.

 

Hermione frowned as they sat down with tea and biscuits. The other patrons around them were buzzing, with what she didn’t know. Excitement? Worry? A little bit of both? They needed to talk to someone and she said as much to Thorfinn.

 

“You’re right. Everyone seems to be a little on edge and whether that is a good sign or not; I am not sure.”

 

“How about we go out into the village again today? We can walk around and keep our ears open for any information,” Hermione suggested.

 

Less than an hour later, the couple was doing exactly that. They walked arm in arm around the village, keeping their eyes and ears open hoping to get some information —their lives depended on it.

 

As Hermione roamed the market, Thorfinn disappeared. She wasn’t worried, but it wasn’t like him to leave her even for a short amount of time.

 

As if he could hear her thoughts, he appeared again at her side. “Come with me,” he murmured into her ear. He didn’t look scared or worried, and that confused Hermione even further. Without questioning him, she grabbed the hand he was offering her and he quickly pulled her along.

 

As several blocks, Hermione spoke up. “Thorfinn,” she gasped, out of breath from trying to keep up with his large strides. “Where are we going?”

 

He didn’t respond, but moments later they stopped outside of a church and Hermione reached for her neck with her free hand. She was panting and bent over to attempt to catch her breath but was still curious to as why he had dragged her all this way.

 

“What—Are—We—Doing—Here?” Hermione said, in between gasps of breath.

 

“You’ll see,” Thorfinn responded, winking. He pulled her into the church and as they walked in between the pews, Hermione noticed a priest standing at the front, flanked by two other people she didn’t recognize.

 

Hermione gulped. She now had a strange idea of why they were in a church. They stopped short of the priest and the two other people. Thorfinn turned to her and took both of her hands in his.

 

“I think you’ve probably figured out why we are here,” Thorfinn said. Hermione nodded and he continued. “I know you said you’ll marry me, but will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, today? I know I can’t give you a big fancy wedding and we are probably about to be in a full-fledged battle. And you’re not dressed —”

 

Hermione cut him off by standing on her tiptoes and kissing him on the lips. As she pulled away she said, “I will marry you anywhere, any day, Thorfinn Rowle. Make me your wife.”

 

Thorfinn picked her up and spun her around, placing his lips on hers. Only when they heard a cough behind them, did they break apart. Hermione held in a giggle as she saw the couple next to the priest smiling and the priest almost grimacing, his face red as a tomato.

 

“Sorry,” they both mumbled and they walked until they were standing right next to the three others.

 

The actual wedding passed in a whirlwind and when it came to the vows, words full of love and hope and promise just flowed off their tongues.  When it was time to exchange rings, Hermione looked up at Thorfinn in horror as he just smiled and pulled out two rings. They were both made of simple silver and Hermione wondered where he got them.

 

“I had some silver around,” Thorfinn said, answering her unasked question, once more convincing her that he could read her mind. “I made them myself.”

 

Hermione’s panic immediately subsided and her heart glowed with even more happiness, if that was possible. As he slid it onto her ring finger, she couldn’t help but admire it. A moment later, she pushed the ring made for him onto his finger as well.

 

Moments later, the priest declared, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

 

Thorfinn slowly brought his face to hers, cupping her face with his large hands. Hermione was expecting a chaste kiss when Thorfinn brought his lips to hers but when his lips touched hers, it was far from it. His tongue touched her lips and she let him in. It was as if he wanted to taste every bit of her mouth in that moment despite their audience.

 

When he broke the kiss, Hermione smiled up at him, blushing, thinking about what a kiss like that could lead to when they were alone.

 

They turned to the priest and thanked him and then the two witnesses. The priest turned around and beckoned them to follow him. They approached a table and Hermione recognized the parchment to be their wedding certificate, officially declaring them man and wife.

 

As Hermione grabbed the quill, she took great pride in signing her name as _Hermione Rowle._ If there was one thing she was sad about on her wedding day, it was that her family couldn’t be here with her.

 

As their witnesses signed and then waved their goodbyes, Thorfinn rolled up the parchment and sealed it with a ribbon. Once more thanking the priest, they too departed from the church, stepping out into the word for the first time as Mister and Missus Rowle.

 

The Rowle’s were oblivious to the workings of the outside world as they spent the rest of the day exploring each other’s bodies and falling asleep in each others’ arms.

 

* * *

 

Hermione groaned as she woke, light streaming through the window waking her long before she was ready. With her eyes still shut she moved her hand toward her husband’s side of the bed and realized immediately that he was not there. Opening her eyes, she saw him sitting at the desk on the other side of the room.

 

Sitting up in bed, Hermione groaned again as her muscles ached — she was deliciously sore from her and Thorfinn’s activities the day before.

 

“Come back to bed,” Hermione said to his back, smiling. Despite being sore, she wanted him between her legs all over again. Thorfinn turned toward her and her smiled immediately dropped.

 

“As much as I want to, my love, I can’t.” She got up from the bed, completely nude, and walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

“What is it?” she murmured into his neck, lightly biting the sensitive skin exposed. Thorfinn tilted her head upward away from his neck and kissed her hard and long.

 

When they broke apart, Hermione was breathing deeply and more than ever wanting to pull her husband into bed and ravish him. She wanted nothing more than to take his mind off whatever was troubling him.

 

“What is it?” she asked again. “Talk to me.”

 

Thorfinn placed his head on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her further. “It’s about Harold,” he murmured into her shoulder.

 

“And?” Hermione prompted him, almost begging him to continue.

 

He sighed and continued. “Harold’s army was so weak that after the battle at Stamford Bridge that he left most of them behind including Morcar and Edwin. I just received word that the army camped at Caldbec Hill last night, only three hours from Hastings at most.”

 

Hermione stood up from Thorfinn’s lap and wrapped the quilt from the bed around her waist. She sat back on the bed and looked at looked at Thorfinn who now had his head in his hands.

 

“What do we do now?” Hermione asked. She didn’t even need to ask as she already knew the answer. If they stayed in England, their lives would never begin. They would be forced to bow down to someone who killed fellow countrymen, forced to change their way of life. The prospect of starting a family was bleak if they stayed.

 

Thorfinn looked up at her with an emotion she wasn’t used to seeing cross his features — fear. He just shook his head and looked back down at the ground. She understood a bit what he was feeling; he didn’t want to admit defeat.

 

“We have to leave don’t we?” Hermione whispered. Thorfinn kept his head down and nodded.

 

After several moments of silence, Thorfinn stood up and headed back toward the bed where Hermione sat waiting. He wrapped his arms around her and unwrapped the quilt. All coherent thoughts left Hermione as Thorfinn began to worship her body.

 

She knew that he wasn’t only trying to keep her thoughts off an uncertain future, but his own. They couldn’t forget about the unpleasant turn of events completely but maybe just for a little while.

 

Hours later, the couple found themselves riding across the country toward Dunwich like they were being chased by the devil himself. With minimal rests and stops, they reached the Dunwich port in under ten hours.

 

Thorfinn rode the horse right onto the docks and onto the ship that would take them away from the dangers of England.

 

As they climbed off the horse, a man approached them. Hermione recognized him as the man who had stopped at Thorfinn’s shop weeks earlier to collect his blacksmith tools — Artie.

 

“We waited as long as we could for you and your bride, Thorfinn. We were just about to set sail. I am glad you made it,” Artie said, giving them a toothy grin.

 

“As am I,” Thorfinn said, smiling back. “Thank you, for everything.”

 

“Not a problem. I was happy to help your father and I will do the same for you.” At that, he walked away leaving Thorfinn and Hermione standing the middle of the deck.

 

A crewman came and grabbed their horse and led him below the deck and moments later, Hermione screamed and ran to the other side of the deck.

 

There stood her brother, his wife and in her arms was a tiny bundle — their new baby. The relief she felt in her chest was like none she had ever felt before. They were safe. Her family was safe.

 

They hugged and gushed over one another for several minutes before the baby started to fuss and they retired below deck. Hermione then walked toward the edge and leaned over the side. They were already slowly moving away from the coast and tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

 

“They might win, but it’s not over you know,” Hermione said, the lump in her throat subsiding allowing her to speak.

 

“I know,” Thorfinn replied, wrapping his arms around Hermione’s waist. “But now, it’s time for us to recuperate and make some babies.” She turned at that and Thorfinn captured her mouth in a kiss. When they broke apart, Hermione smiled, desire pooling in her belly.

 

“I’d like that.”

 

“Me too.”

 

They both turned back to watch the coast of England disappear as they sailed away; overwhelmed with hope for the future. _They might be unsure of their destination, but this was most definitely not the end_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my alpha/beta team, Vino Amore and Kaarina Riddle for their amazing work on this piece!
> 
> Disclaimer: All canon characters, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.


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